


kidney punch

by torrentialTriages



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Nosebleeds, Violence, kepler gets absolutely whaled on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:49:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torrentialTriages/pseuds/torrentialTriages
Summary: so you get a kidney punch, a little blood in your urine. it isn't over yet, it's just begun.- a primer for the small weird loves, richard sikenriemann and young have their fun. it's been a while coming.





	kidney punch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunderhavelton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunderhavelton/gifts).



> (final pam voice) enjoy entertainment dana
> 
> i dont know, dont look at me, we all want to kick kepler isnt that why youre here

“Isn’t he pretty like this, Victor?” Kepler grits his teeth against Young’s crooning prattle. He’s never liked her, a smug cat on Cutter’s shoulder, always coyly snubbing her nose at him no matter the issue. Riemann, however, welcomes his partner’s banter, cocking a smirk at the sight of Kepler on his knees. 

“Not quite, Miss Young,” he drawls, and - and Kepler knows he himself puts great stock in the nuance of titles, but nothing quite so pulls the rug out from under his feet as _Mister_ Riemann here, turning Kepler’s address of mocking contempt into a conspiratorial eschewing of hierarchy between coworkers. “Just needs a little touch to spruce him up.” And then he slaps Kepler across the face, a decorative ring on his middle finger catching the edge of his lip and tearing as Riemann admires the way blood spills from his mouth and - oh - Kepler tilts his head back, but it’s no use-

Rachel tsks. “Of course. You’ve always had a thing for nosebleeds.”

“Just look at him. Pretty as a peach now.” Riemann folds his arms, admiring his work as the blood spatters the landing dock. 

“ _Victor._ ” Rachel circles around behind Kepler, and when he strains to watch, Reimann’s hand shoots out to pinch his ear painfully tight, yanking so that Kepler is forced to look at him with a yelp. Rachel grabs Kepler by the hair once Reimann lets go, cruel grip forcing his head back as she scolds him. “You’re making a mess, Warren. Mr. Cutter won’t appreciate that.”

Kepler is too busy not choking on his own blood to respond.

“Got anything to say for yourself, _Warren?_ ” Reimann drawls, hand resting in his belt loops. The use of his name scalds him, but he remains loose, not willing to give them a reason to off him (or Jacobi) faster.

Rachel cuffs the back of his head more soundly than he’d expected from her. He coughs so as not to inhale blood, and ends up spilling some from his mouth, rushing down his chin to drip thickly onto his lap. “Mr. Reimann asked you a question,” she tells him in a primly frozen tone, and he swallows hard.

“No,” he croaks. “Nothing.”

“Is that so.” Riemann appears to consider this, then his face splits into a Cutter-esque feral grin that makes the hairs on Kepler’s nape jolt to attention. “Well then, we can get on with it. Miss Young? You wanna start us off?”

“My _pleasure._ "

Riemann grabs Kepler by the chin, leaning in so he is all Kepler can see, and rests his fingers on Kepler’s lips. “Open wide.” Kepler hisses at the touch to his split lip, the jolt of pain making him gasp. “Good boy. Now, don’t lift a finger, _boy_ -” and Kepler wonders exactly how old Riemann is, _who_  Reimann is, past the salt-and-pepper ginger hair and the piercing pale eyes and the bony fingers that are forcing their way into his mouth, pulling his split lip apart, and the fact that _Cutter seems to trust him without a rank_ \- “And we won’t have to… discipline you.” Riemann pinches his tongue. “Blink twice for yes.”

Kepler, because he has no choice, blinks deliberately, twice.

Riemann lets go, patting Kepler’s cheek, leaving his own saliva and blood to dry on his skin. “There’s a good boy.” And when he swiftly steps aside, Kepler has no time to regain his bearings before Rachel comes out from behind and _kicks_ him squarely in the gut.

He doubles over, coughing and gasping for air, blood soaking further into his flight suit. Riemann laughs, a harsh bark that knifes at his body. Rachel kicks him again, compounding future bruises and making the pain of the already-tender flesh explosive, then steps back to admire her handiwork. Or, really, footwork. His nose is starting to dry up.

"Now we're getting somewhere," croons Riemann. "Move over."

Rachel obliges, arms folded as Riemann sizes Kepler up, still gasping and shaking a little. When he's satisfied with what he sees, he delivers a swift kick to Kepler's crotch, and Kepler jolts, grunting as Riemann grinds the heel of his boot into the sore flesh. "We're going to have a lot of fun with this one, Rachel, I can tell."

"I knew you'd like him, Victor." The possession in her voice galls Kepler to no end, but he doesn't have time for anger when Riemann has moved back to idly kicking him in the stomach every so often, seeming to categorize his grunts and gasps with glee. "It's so nice to not have to listen to him yammering  _on_ and  _on,_ hmm?" Riemann catches Kepler's side, and he gasps at the sting. "Oh, try higher up. Mix it up a bit."

 _Don't resist. Don't give them a reason to find you more useful dead,_ Kepler had told the Hephaestus crew, and yelps as Riemann leaves a well-placed kick to his ribs. It's about time he started following his own advice, he thinks, and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> i will Never, Ever, be able to not pronounce riemann in my head as "reamin'" because of that one library conversation in 999


End file.
